


i think that possibly, maybe i'm falling for you

by remuslupin



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupin/pseuds/remuslupin
Summary: "He folds his arms atop the table and waits, eyeing Miss Holly Golightly as she waltzes across the threshold as if she’s in Tiffany’s and not some all-nighter diner. The bell sounds to signify that a new customer has entered, and in another life, another world (one with parks wider than thirty feet and neoclassical statues that cry out for liberty in a world where everyone is bound by restraints in one way or another), Jughead has no doubts that Veronica Lodge would be welcomed by way of announcement from a master of ceremonies. Or maybe by writing.In the sky."a series of canon-divergent vignettes based on the possibility of veronica walking into pop’s after homecoming, rather than archie.





	1. the river's edge

**Author's Note:**

> as the summary notes, this is going to be a fic based around the premise of veronica searching for betty at pop's after cheryl's homecoming afterparty & running into jughead. i have a basic plan for 13 chapters (one for each episode), but i'm not sure how fast i'll be updating. i do want to finish it, though! so comments/suggestions/feedback is much appreciated, and i'll take it on board as i go.
> 
> chapters will also get longer as the story progresses! this is just a small one to set the scene amidst everything else that happens in episode one.
> 
> enjoy!

_It was midnight when Veronica Lodge, the newest addition to our city of secrets, arrived at the one place in town that was still open. She was looking for the girl next door._

_Instead, she found_ **_me_** _._

* * *

The caret on Jughead’s laptop screen blinks insistently, waiting for him to type out the next words of his story-- his _exposè_ \-- but instead, he folds his arms atop the table and waits, eyeing Miss Holly Golightly as she waltzes across the threshold as if she’s in Tiffany’s and not some all-nighter diner. The bell sounds to signify that a new customer has entered, and in another life, another _world_ (one with parks wider than thirty feet and neoclassical statues that cry out for liberty in a world where everyone is bound by restraints in one way or another), Jughead has no doubts that Veronica Lodge would be welcomed by way of announcement from a master of ceremonies. Or maybe by writing.

In the _sky_.

“Can I get you anything?” Pop calls out from behind the counter, and the silence lingers for a beat before she starts shaking her head to decline the offer.

“No, thank you. I…” She takes a few hasty strides towards Pop now, lowering her voice as if she thinks that Jughead won’t be able to hear her anyway. “I was actually wondering if Betty Cooper stopped by at all.”

“No.” He glances towards Jughead as he speaks, and his shoulders slouch forward even further before Pop has finished. “Just the nighthawk’s in tonight.”

“Ni-- oh.” Her head automatically turns in the direction that Pop’s head had tilted towards, and even though her gaze meets with Jughead’s own, she does not look away; is it a challenge, or a judgement? Either way, he refuses to be the one to back down. The silence stretches on before Veronica finally remembers her city girl etiquette and turns back to nod halfheartedly in Pop’s direction. “Well, thank you anyway.”

When she finally steps away from Pop Tate, Jughead sinks into his seat with a short huff, quietly muttering a repetitive plea towards his laptop; “Don’t come over. Don’t come over. Don’t--”

“Hi. You go to Riverdale, right?”

“Unfortunately,” He replies with a reluctant hitch of his shoulder, easily avoiding both her piercing gaze and outstretched hand, pearls looped around her wrist that simply _scream_ high society. He’s almost beginning to question _why_ exactly she knows him (or _of_ him, at the very least), before finally realising that they’re in the same homeroom.

She doesn’t ask to sit, nor does Jughead make the offer. When she eases closer, however, arm ghosting against his own as she lowers herself onto the seat beside him in the booth that now feels _too small_ , he casts a rather stormy glance in her direction. “I’m busy.”

“You _look_ busy,” she affirms, gaze dropping to his laptop. As if on instinct, he immediately shifts the screen away from her. “What are you doing?”

“Working on my novel. It’s about this summer, and Jason Blossom.”

Veronica edges closer. “You knew him?”

Jughead scoots away. The game of cat and mouse almost falls short of him emerging victorious-- he can feel his arm firmly pushing against the window of the booth-- but he only hesitates for a second before scooping up his laptop, clambering onto the table, and crossing over to the other side of the booth. If Pop sees this, he doesn’t speak up. “Vaguely. Didn’t everyone?”

Veronica raises her eyebrows, amused expression quirking the edges of her lips upwards momentarily as if she has been presented with a _challenge_ , but the smirk soon fades as her mind returns to the matter at hand. She may have lost the battle, but plans on emerging victorious from the _war._ “Evidently.” And she thinks about Jason, now; about Polly, and Betty, and Archie, but her expression gives none of that away. Her words, however, give hints. Inklings. The shadow cast across her features has not quite disappeared by the time she asks her next question. “I don’t suppose _you’ve_ seen Betty around tonight, have you?”

“Betty has a _curfew._ If she’s not at the dance, she wouldn’t be at _Pop’s_.”

If he didn’t know better (and he arguably _doesn’t_ ), Jughead would say that she stiffens at his tone. He pretends not to notice anyway. “Yes. You’re right. I… Well, I honestly don’t know why I thought I’d find her here.”

“I gather that the _semi-formal_ didn’t go as planned?”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t the Met Ball.” A pause. She sighs, posture seeming to deflate further with each passing moment. “Not exactly. I think we may have a Blair Waldorf and Serena Van Der Woodsen-esque feud going on at the moment.”

“How contemporary.”

“I was ready to throw in a Cecily and Gwyndolen reference, but I didn’t think that our situation entirely fits.”

“Well, one would hope that none of Wilde’s scenarios turn out to be very relatable to anyone.”

“You’re probably right,” Veronica’s lip twitches upwards, and she rests her elbows on the table before speaking once more. “but you have to admit that we’ve _all_ got a little bit of _Dorian Gray_ in us."

“A selfish, narcissistic rich boy? Maybe _some_ of us more than others.” He hadn’t meant it as a direct insult-- alright, not _entirely--_ but Veronica’s minute flinch upon hearing the word ‘rich’ suggests that she’d taken it on a more serious note than he’d intended.

“And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?” She asks, eyes glinting with disdain as she peers at him from across the table. “You don’t even _know_ me.” When he moves to reply, Veronica raises a hand. “Save it. I need to go home, anyway.”

* * *

 

_Although we gladly parted ways, something told me that it would not be the last time I crossed paths with Veronica Lodge._

_As we separated, two hearts collided in another,_ **_colder_ ** _place; and tore each other into halves as words were spoken that would ring throughout the_ **_darkness_ ** _for hours to come._

_And the night was far from over._

_By morning, everyone would be talking, texting, and posting about it. We'd all be_ **_feeling_ ** _it._

 _That the world around us had changed,_ **_maybe forever_** _. That Riverdale wasn't the same town as before; that it was a town of shadows and secrets now._

He is there, when Jason’s body is pulled from the river. While Jughead circles the police car and the crowds with the sharp gaze of a hawk, satchel hooked over a shoulder and hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, Veronica remains motionless, hand raised to clutch at the pearls around her neck as her mother winds an arm around her shoulders. The pair lock eyes, expressions equally solemn.

 _On Monday, the autopsy on Jason's body, washed ashore on the edge of Sweetwater River, would take place. And on Tuesday, halfway through fifth period, the first_ **_arrest_ ** _would be made._


	2. a touch of evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i finished this a lot earlier than i initially expected to lol! updates definitely won't be this constant from here on out as i have uni etc, but i do plan to finish it all the same. 
> 
> enjoy!

_ I think many of us-- maybe the entire  _ **_town--_ ** _ had been hoping against hope that somehow, Jason Blossom hadn’t drowned on July 4th. That we’d come to school Monday morning, and there Jason would be; or that we’d see him and Cheryl in a booth at Pop’s.  _

_ But that was before the undeniable, irrevocable fact of his bloated, waterlogged body. A corpse with a bullet hole in its forehead, and terrible secrets that could only be revealed by the cold, steel blade of a coroner’s scalpel-- _

_ Or the telltale beating of a  _ **_guilty_ ** _ heart. _

* * *

 

“What are you doing?”

Veronica frowns, eyeing the boy who seems  _ far  _ too comfortable as he leans against a locker and surveys the near-empty hallway. She stands a mere two metres away, currently attempting to prise her own locker open-- even though she’d never admit it, she’s always had a rather rocky relationship with combination locks.

“Used Jason Blossom’s death as an excuse to get out of P.E. So-- not much of anything.” Coming from anyone else, she would take the ludicrous statement as nothing more than a joke; but when her gaze lifts from her locker to meet with Jughead’s own once more, his deadpan stare prompts a faint feeling of unease to stir within the pit of her stomach. 

The response she eventually settles on, however, is a disinterested quirk of her lip, and silence resonates between the pair for a moment before her locker opens with a heavy  _ clang,  _ which apparently cues his voice to crash past her barriers and tumble through her head once more. “Do I smell cupcakes?”

“Nose down, Scooby Doo,” she starts, hastily stuffing the box of Magnolia cupcakes onto the topmost shelf of her locker and slamming the metal door closed before he has a chance to investigate any further. “They’re for  _ Betty.”  _ Who  _ seems  _ to have accepted them (as well as her apology), but-- well, she supposes that she’ll just have to wait and see.

Jughead opens his mouth to make a witty retort (once he’s gotten past the onset of amusement as a result of being called  _ Scooby Doo _ , that is), but the feedback that soon oozes from the speaker above their heads promptly cuts him off.

_ “Good morning, students. This is your principal speaking. There have been many inquiries about the upcoming pep rally. So, let me state clearly… It is happening as scheduled.”  _

Veronica prepares to make some sort of comment about how the pep rally  _ really  _ shouldn’t be the most pressing thing on the community’s minds, but Weatherbee’s continuation does not leave room for her to cut in.

_ “Now, on a less felicitous note, if you could give your attention to Sheriff Keller.” _ _   
_

_ “Most of you already know the details, but your classmate Jason Blossom’s body was found late Saturday night. So, as of the weekend… Jason’s death is now being treated as a homicide. It is an open and ongoing investigation.” _

_ “And, may I interject?”  _ The addition of Cheryl’s voice brings about another particularly unamused twist of Veronica’s lips, but she stays silent. _ “Neither I nor my parents will rest until Jason’s death is avenged, and his cold-hearted killer is walking the Green Mile to sit in Old Sparky, and fry. I, for one, have my suspicions. Hashtag ‘Riverdale Strong.’” _

Sheriff Keller begins to speak again, but it all becomes white noise in Veronica’s mind as Jughead angles his head to glance over her shoulder, prompting her to angle her head towards the apparent disturbance--

Which is really nothing more than Archie, hovering silently before the framed photograph of Jason that sits behind the protective glass covering one of the many trophy cabinets that line the walls of Riverdale High. Jughead, however, seems to settle on the conclusion that his presence is more important than Veronica had first presumed, and he casts a final glance her way before slinking towards the redhead.

The announcement ends, and Veronica hears the beginnings of a sentence leave Jughead’s lips-- something about summer & road trips, which really begins to make her wonder if those particular kinds of adventures really are as wonderful as  _ On The Road  _ made them seem to be-- but the attention that she turns towards incoming text also tells her that she’s going to be late for class if she continues to dawdle, and Veronica Lodge has never been one to make a mess of a first impression.

Well. Aside from the obvious.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione Lodge sashays back towards the counter inside Pop’s after collecting her tip, and Veronica stares at her in the way that all daughters watch their mothers at some point in their lives: proud,  _ happy  _ (and, of course, infused with just that little bit of childish  _ jealousy _ at her poise). “You're doing great, Mom. Better than me this week.”

Evidently, cupcakes hadn’t been quite enough to fix the newest mess that she’d landed herself in-- the only outcome of their lunch break having been a confirmation of the fact that she is now  _ not  _ on speaking terms with Betty (and Kevin, by extension). She isn’t sure where she stands with Archie, but has already settled on the conclusion that it would be a wise idea to steer clear of him for the moment.   


“Yeah, we're surviving, Ronnie; by our wits, because that's what we Lodge women do. If Dad could see us now…”

“He'd say you look stunning in that new uniform,” Veronica finishes her mother’s thought easily, because she’ll be damned if Hermione even  _ begins _ to think lowly of herself while working to provide for her family. 

Luckily, the encouragement seems to work (at least somewhat); Hermione reaching up and tugging lightly at her ponytail with a rueful smile in response. “I'm going for this Joan Crawford, Mildred Pierce thing. Is it working?” 

Veronica laughs, standing up from her seat at the counter and moving closer to her mother. “Definitely.”

The jingling of a bell distracts her from any further remarks (for the moment, at least), however, and though she instinctively glances over her shoulder, the sight of Archie hovering in the doorway doesn’t exactly do much to settle the anxious flapping of butterflies that have been lodged in her lungs all day. 

“Hi.”

She swallows. Pushes the butterflies and their mercurial wings aside, for the moment. “Hi.”

“And who might this heartbreaker be?” Hermione asks after a brief pause. Veronica’s shaking her head, but the damage has already been done; Archie rubbing the nape of his neck rather regretfully in response. 

“I'm, uh, picking up an order for Andrews.”

“Oh, you're Fred's son? You're as handsome as your father was.” The exchange inspires a further feeling of discomfort with each word that passes from her mother’s lips, and as Veronica’s eyes sweep desperately over the store in search of a way out, the bell sounds once more, and a familiar face steps over the threshold.

After only a moment’s pause, she takes her bag from the counter, and takes a step towards the doorway. “I'll see you at home, Mom.”

“Uh, wait. I'm sure Archie would happily escort you,” Hermione starts, glancing meaningfully at the redhead as she speaks. 

“No, I’m--” Veronica pauses. Jughead raises a brow from where he stands behind Archie, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to move any further into the store before she is striding towards him and placing a decisive hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Mom. I already have an escort.”

“You do?” Her resulting gaze sends a  _ chill _ rippling down Jughead’s spine, and he hesitates only for a moment before finally repeating his words with a resigned sigh. He  _ does  _ kind of owe her for the comments that he’d made during their first (and most recent) encounter in Pop’s, after all. “You do.”

* * *

 

“Avoiding Archie, are we?” It’s hardly an accusatory question, but Veronica winces anyway.

“N-Not exactly. I just--” She sighs, shrugging a shoulder halfheartedly. “I don’t want to stir the pot more than I already have.”

Although Jughead doesn’t reply, he glances to the side until gaining eye contact, and raises a brow. At that, she adjusts the placement of her bag on her forearm before speaking again. “It’s hardly been a week, and I’m back to being the shallow, toxic, rich bitch who ruins everything in her path… Which is unfortunate, because even though I only just met Betty, it really felt like we were  _ meant _ to be best friends, like… Like it was our  _ destiny _ . And, now… It’s like there’s this train that was heading to the rest of my life, and I just… Missed it.”

“Listen… I don’t know what happened--” and he doesn’t exactly think he  _ wants _ to, either-- “but if I know one thing about Betty Cooper, it’s that she doesn’t have the heart to resent people for very long,” is Jughead’s response after he takes a moment to think. “She’s a regular Lucy Pevensie.”   


“Does that make me Edmund?” Veronica quips lightly, but does not quite have the heart to look anywhere but the road stretching in front of them as she speaks. Jughead stays silent, hands shoved firmly in his pockets.

* * *

“And Sheriff Keller's grilling  _ me, _ Mantle the Magnificent. 'Cause  _ I'd  _ want Blossom dead. When he was, like, the only good quarterback we had.” Reggie’s words echo around the student lounge as he scoffs, Archie pretending not to hear as he enters the open area & Veronica giving his indignant self-defence only a moment of thought before turning her attention back towards Chuck Clayton. This, however, does not put Reggie off, and he continues to fiddle raucously with the football in his hands as he speaks to those of his peers who are still listening.

“And-- speaking of offensive tight-ends, I should've sent the cops to  _ you, _ Moose. Because here's another unsolved mystery. What exactly were you and Kevin doing at the river, huh? Or does being with the sheriff's son give you a free pass, Keller?”

Betty frowns from where she sits, and places a light hand on her friend’s arm. “Reggie's just being a blowhard, Kev.”

Kevin mutters something under his breath, but Reggie’s next round of boisterous accusations drowns him out as he speaks to his teammates, voice easily travelling over to Jughead’s position by the vending machine.

“I mean, let's think about it. If a kid at Riverdale killed Jason, it's not gonna be a  _ jock,  _ right? No, let's be honest. Isn't it always some spooky, scrawny, pathetic Internet troll, too busy writing his  _ manifestos _ to get laid? Some smug, moody, serial-killer-fanboy freak, like Jughead?” Reggie laughs, glancing back at Jughead (and Veronica pauses in her movements to push her hair out of her eyes in favour of blinking up at him owlishly, too. She hadn’t known his name up until now-- nor has she ever heard of the name ‘Jughead’-- but it suits him). 

“What was it like, Suicide Squad? When you shot Jason? You didn't do stuff to the body, did you? Like, after?” While Veronica looks rather scandalised at the insinuation, Jughead merely crosses his arms, as if this is a frequent occurrence (and  _ really _ , it wouldn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that it  _ must  _ happen frequently).

“It's called  _ necrophilia,  _ Reggie. Can you spell it?” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Veronica’s lips quirk up into a full-blown grin, but he is not given much time to process it before Reggie is standing and advancing towards him in all of his hulking glory. “Come here, you little--”

“Hey. Shut the hell up, Reggie,” Archie warns, abandoning his attempts to buy a snack from the vending machine in favour of firmly positioning himself between Jughead and the jock. When he gives Reggie a light shove for good measure, Veronica moves to stand, brows raised in disapproval. 

“Boys,” she warns, Chuck frowning as her attention is torn away from him.

Of course, Reggie ignores her in favour of shooting a raised brow towards Archie, evidently uncaring of (or revelling in) the fact that they now have the attention of the entire room. “What do  _ you _ care, Andrews?”

“Nothing. Just-- leave him alone.”

“Holy crap,” Reggie continues after a beat of silence, eyes widening comically as his gaze darts from Archie to Jughead. “Did you and Donnie Darko kill him  _ together?  _ Was it some sort of pervy, blood brother thing?” Archie is still for a moment. 

Once he finally moves, it is to push Reggie,  _ hard. _ The jock barely flinches, and when he shoves back, Archie stumbles and collides with the vending machine, glass shattering beneath the force of his weight.

“Hey!” Jughead lunges forward, attempting to pull Reggie away from the redhead, but Reggie is stronger, and easily shrugs him off. The pair fall to the ground, Reggie easily pinning Archie beneath him, and it’s around then that all Hell breaks loose.

* * *

The next time Veronica sees Jughead, he’s laughing with Archie (at the very least, it’s an action that she’s daring to assume is a laugh, from what she can see as she squints at them from her position near the stage on the football field). When she turns away to continue preparing for the pep rally, it’s with a smile.

When Jughead spots Veronica, she’s grinning far too widely, and dancing to Josie’s vocals as if she’s a marionette on paper-thin strings. It’s all very  _ theatrical,  _ and he can’t help but to wonder whether she truly is feeling that happy, or if their town has already taught her how to force all of her skeletons into the closet.

Their performance finishes, the Bulldogs make their entrance, and Cheryl runs. It takes a moment for him to register that Veronica follows. For all of her talk about being the shallow, toxic rich bitch, he can’t help but to think that she’s--

Something else.

* * *

“Betty… Can we make a vow?”

“Sure.”

“That no matter what, no boy will ever come between us again. Deal?” 

“Deal.” The rims of their milkshake glasses collide with a soft  _ clink  _ to cement their pact, and Veronica’s smile has not yet faded when her gaze finally lifts and meets with--

Jughead and Archie.

After a moment, Betty glances over her shoulder and casts a considering gaze towards the pair, before turning back towards Veronica. The brunette simply smiles at her, the sincerity of their vow still fresh on her lips, and Betty contemplates.

“Do you guys want to join us?” She asks, and Veronica lets out a breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding. 

Jughead swallows; glancing at Archie, then Veronica. When their eyes lock, his gaze holds. “Yes, but only if you're treating.”

While Betty laughs, and immediately slides over to make room for Archie on her side of the booth, Veronica straightens up, adjusts her wrap, and holds her hand out once more, because while they know each other’s names, she isn’t sure if they’ve ever actually introduced themselves before. “Veronica Lodge.”   


Jughead rolls his eyes in return, though a hint of a grin spreads across his features as he takes her hand (she counts that as a win). When their grips loosen, he easily leaps over her and clambers into the window side of the seat. “Jughead Jones III.”

“Jughead Jones III,” she repeats, lips quirking upwards as the name rolls off her tongue for the first time. It all feels a little like a reconciliation, and while she’s always preferred an outright  _ apology,  _ this somehow feels  _ right.  _ He swings his arm around the back of their seat, and when Archie finally loosens up enough to crack a joke that makes Betty laugh so hard that Pop looks over at them with a smile, Veronica finally begins to feel as if she may stand a chance of fitting in, after all.

* * *

_ To someone on the outside, peering in, it would've looked like there were four people in that booth. But I was there, and I can tell you-- really, there were only  _ **_three._ ** _ A raven-haired girl, a blonde girl, and the luckiest red-headed boy in the universe. _

_ For one  _ **_shining_ ** _ moment, we were just kids; those bright neon lights of Pop's keeping the darkness at bay.  _

_ Giving way, as all nights must, to a morning of  _ **_reckoning._ **

_ As shocking as Cheryl’s confession had been, they were nothing compared to the secrets that Jason's body had given up during its autopsy. That Jason didn't die on July 4th, as we believed-- but over a week later. _


	3. body double

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> veronica goes on a date and faces the consequences; jughead does research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a while & was a bit of a pain to write, but i'm excited for the later chapters! enjoy!

_Guilt, innocence. Good, evil. Life,_ **_death._ **

_As the shadows around Riverdale deepened, the lines that separated these polar opposites blurred and distorted. "I'm_ **_guilty_** _," Cheryl said in Biology class._

_But of what?_

_\---------_

“I don’t know if _I_ would do anything like that for Cheryl, but I admire your chivalry, Archiekins,” is Veronica’s first comment once Archie has finished relaying the story of his morning encounter with Principal Weatherbee. “So… Are you a suspect now?”

The redhead glances uneasily at Jughead, who’s perched on an arm of one of the lounges (and replies with nothing more than a deadpan stare), and Kevin seizes the silence as an opportunity to speak up. “My dad says we _all_ are-- including me.”

Veronica’s laugh echoes through the room, and her eyebrows lift in amusement as she leans forward to pick up her coffee. “Not _me_ , girl. I don't know these people.”

Kevin tilts his head as if to consider her point, but does not stay silent for long before a particular gleam floods his expression. “Guys… Should we maybe re-binge _Making a Murderer_ on Netflix tonight?”

It’s Betty’s turn to chuckle, now, and she plucks a Twizzler from the packet beside her on the couch before offering Kevin a remorseful shrug. “Sorry, can't. Gotta stay late to work on the school paper.”

“Count me out, too,” Veronica starts, gaze shifting to the side as a small smirk plays across her lips. “I've got a date tonight.”

“You do?” The question slips from Archie’s lips at the same time that it tumbles from Jughead’s, and Kevin squints at him for a moment before taking his turn to reply.

“Which Riverdale hottie made the cut?”

In a timing only familiar to terribly cliched movies from the 80s, Veronica’s eyes dart across the room to where Reggie, Moose, and Chuck are preparing to leave the student lounge, and the latter speaks up as he tugs his jacket on. “Hey, V-Lo--” Jughead snorts, an action which goes mostly ignored by everyone save for Veronica, who glances away from Chuck long enough to pull a face at him-- “I'll swing by the Pembrooke to pick you up at 8:00?”

“I'll be waiting,” she replies, plastering on a smile so _perfect_ that Jughead almost begins to wonder if she’s practiced the expression in the mirror.

“Cool.” The moment he passes the threshold, a cacophony of noise erupts as Veronica’s friends clamour to speak.

“ _Chuck Clayton?_ ” Jughead asks, while Kevin hisses, “you're going on a date with _Chuck_?”

“He's kind of a player,” Betty finishes, brows furrowing as she nervously fiddles with her fingers.

“Who cares?” Kevin asks, quickly waving Betty off as Veronica smirks in satisfaction. “He's the hottest of hot, and he's the varsity football coach's son. In Riverdale, that's like dating a _Kennedy_.”

The morning bell rings, and the group slowly disperses to their various classes. Jughead, however, trails behind Veronica as she makes the journey to her locker, and only speaks up once she’s prised her door open. “Look-- are you sure about Chuck?”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know how to handle myself around a _boy_?” Veronica’s almost laughing, but she offers him a sigh and a shrug before continuing to speak. “Jughead, this isn’t Rydell High. I can’t do something as easy as bursting into song and expecting all of my pre-existing problems to go away, but-- I can at least past the time with some of the eye candy around here."

“Maybe it’s because you’re more of a Rizzo than a Sandy,” he comments, adjusting the strap of his satchel on his shoulder with a slight quirk of his lips.

“Who says that’s a bad thing?” She asks, shutting her locker door with a particular flair before turning to walk away, and Jughead almost thinks that the suggestion has put an extra skip in her step.

Still, the looming pit in his stomach lingers.

\----------

He hadn’t expected to see Veronica again today-- but, if he’s being realistic, he should have guessed that Chuck would bring her to Pop’s. It’s the only place in town that’s open past 9 on weekdays, after all.

Jughead, of course, doesn’t notice their presence until they’re halfway through their sundae, and he only looks up from his laptop to shoot Mr. Popular Football God a withering glare before turning his attention back to his novel.

He spares her a glance when the pair are comfortably seated in Chuck’s car, though, and for a moment, he allows himself to toy with the thought of what it would be like to go on a date with a girl like that before finally deciding that selfies are _stupid_ , anyway.

\----------

“So, how'd it go with Chuck?”  Kevin and Betty have managed to corner Veronica before she’s even begun to open her locker, and she offers him a sly smile.

“Chuck has muscles for days, but his conversation is _not_ the stuff of Oscar Wilde, or even Diablo Cody.” At the mention of the former, her mind drifts to the conversation she’d had about Wilde with another Riverdale native, but she can only think about him-- _it--_ for a moment before being interrupted.

“Hey, Veronica,” Tina-- or was it Ginger?-- calls out as she walks by, waving a display of her Instagram feed in Veronica’s direction. “How was the Sticky Maple you had last night?”

“The what now?” Her brows furrow, and Cheryl’s friend titters as if she has more than one secret to hide.

“The Sticky Maple that Chuck gave you? How was it?”

“We had a brownie sundae, if that's what you hyenas mean.” She turns back to her locker, barely noticing when Kevin’s phone chirps with a notification.

When he pulls the device from his pocket, however, a quiet ‘oh, my God’ successfully grabs Veronica’s attention once more. “What?” She swipes the phone from his hands, and falls silent. A mute kind of horror fills her expression as she looks down at the screen, before finally-- “What the _hell_ is a Sticky Maple?”

“It's kind of what it sounds like,” Kevin starts uneasily, glancing from her to a rather panic-stricken Betty. “It's a Riverdale thing.”

“No, Kevin, it's a _slut-shaming_ thing,” Veronica declares, having ceased all attempts to open her locker by now. “And I'm-- I’m neither a slut, nor am I going to be shamed by someone named, excuse me, _Chuck Clayton_ . Does he really think he can get away with this? Does he not know who I _am_ ? I will cut the _brakes_ on his souped-up phallic symbol.”

“ _Or,_ we can go to Principal Weatherbee,” Betty suggests, peering over at the screen and knitting her brows together in worry.

“About the coach's son? Who’s also the captain of the football team, _and_ Riverdale High's resident golden boy?” Veronica scoffs, hands gravitating to her hips.

“And/or I can expose him in the pages of the Blue and Gold,” Betty replies. “Yeah, I can do that!”

“ _No_ . Spoken like a true good girl who always follows the rules. Well, _I_ don't follow rules, I make them-- and when necessary, I _break_ them.” Veronica slams the phone against Kevin’s chest and leaves him standing against the row of lockers as she breaks into a stride that sends her surrounding peers shuffling away to avoid any backlash. Betty follows a few paces behind, gaze darting from Veronica to Weatherbee’s nearby office door. “You wanna help me get revenge on Chuck, Betty? _Awesome_. But you better be willing to go full dark, no stars. What do you say-- in, or out?”

\----------

It’s only a few hours later that she sees Jughead, while the two of them are supposed to be in English. Veronica’s footfalls are the only sounds that disrupt the tenuous peace in the street across from Riverdale’s Scout Hall, and while she’s rather immersed in her phone, she still performs a double take upon catching sight of a rather familiar beanie. “What are you doing?”

“Research,” he explains once he’s finally looked up from the notepad in his grasp. ”Betty’s trying to resuscitate the Blue and Gold, so I’m writing an article about Jason’s murder.”

“Wouldn’t that run the risk of being a giant spoiler alert for your novel?” She asks, but Jughead merely pockets the notepad and shrugs insouciantly, lips quirking upwards at her narrowed eyes.

“Not unless I actually solve it. Anyway-- what are _you_ doing here? I didn’t take you for someone who cuts class.”

“Just wandering.” It’s Veronica’s turn to lift a shoulder, now, and she takes another step forward before tilting her head. “I was about to head back for Economics, actually. Walk with me?”

“Sure,” he nods, pushing away from the Scout sign and striding forward a few steps to catch up with her. “I think I’ve gotten everything I need from Doiley, anyway.”

“Do I _want_ to ask what you were questioning Dilton about?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably not.” The pair are quick to fall into a comfortable silence as they make their way towards the end of the street-- they _have_ done this before, after all-- but trouble starts as they take their first step onto a pedestrian crossing, and Veronica’s phone pings with an alert.

And pings. And pings.

It isn’t long before Jughead finally clears his throat, glancing over at her with a raised brow. “You’re really not going to check any of those?”

“No. I’ve had enough of being _ridiculed_ for today,” she replies, flipping her hair over her shoulder but not seeming very confident in her words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, watching on as her expression hardens, as her pace quickens. He’d be amused by the display of dramatics if he hadn’t already felt-- well-- _concerned,_ if he’s being honest with himself. “Veronica, what's wrong--”

“Oh, _as if_ you don't know!” She seethes, finally stopping in her tracks and turning on her heel to face Jughead. He doesn't think he's ever seen her this angry; not even at Cheryl. “It's all over Chuck’s Instagram, it's the only thing that _anyone_ can talk about, which really cements the idea that people in small towns have _nothing_ better to do than _judge_ the new girl--”

“I don't _have_ Instagram,” he starts, holding up his hands in surrender when her own hand clenches into a fist so tight that he begins to fear that she might punch something. “And even if I _did,_ Chuck Clayton is the last person on earth who I’d think about following.” He's always been more of a Twitter guy, but hardly thinks that now is an appropriate time to discuss the advantages of one social media platform against another.

Instead, he takes a breath, and stuffs his hands in his pockets when he realises that he'd been contemplating the idea of _comforting_ her. “So, are you going to tell me what happened with him, or are you going to keep walking and pretending you're not as miserable as you actually are?”

“He…” She almost seems to deflate in the silence that follows, and it takes some time before she’s able to build up enough breath in her lungs to continue. “He photoshopped a picture we took, and made it look like he gave me a Sticky Maple.”

“A _what_?” Jughead asks, nose wrinkling in displeasure from the mere mention of the name.

“Just-- maple syrup. Everywhere. _God,_ it’s such a slutshaming thing.”

“Did you call him out?” Of course, he realises that it’s a relatively stupid question as soon as it tumbles from his lips-- of _course_ she has, who does he think she is?

“I mean, I _tried_ , but he called it a ‘badge of honour’ and then started _threatening_ me like some half-witted henchman. Betty wants to write an exposé, but… It’s not enough, Jughead.” The idea hadn’t been nearly helpful enough to settle the sinking feeling of being _violated_ that she’d harboured in her gut ever since having seen the photo. “I just… I want to find that _stupid_ playbook that Ethel keeps talking about.”

“What playbook?”

“Apparently all the guys on the football team keep score of their conquests in some playbook, but no one’s been able to track it down.”

“Well, then… Let’s go find it.”

“I mean, _yeah,_ that was the plan, but-- wait.” She crosses her arms, raising a brow in disbelief. “Are you going to _help_?”

“I mean, it’s a choice between helping you and going through the assigned English reading for the third time, so I think I’ll take the first option.”

“Wow. Jughead Jones… You’re a bit of a softie, aren’t you?” Veronica asks after a pause, finally making a movement to continue walking. Jughead easily matches her pace, and bumps his shoulder against hers with a grin.

“Don’t make me reconsider, Lodge.”

\----------

Reality has always felt just a little altered in schools after dark, and the interior of Riverdale High at night is no different. Cheryl’s timely appearance, however, causes Veronica to ponder if perhaps reality truly _has_ shifted as a result of their journey through the darkened hallways.

“Are you going to help? Or derail our investigation?” Betty asks of the newest addition to their group (Cheryl Blossom isn’t exactly dressed for stealth-- but is she ever?), and Veronica is just glad that _she_ hadn’t had to ask the obvious question.

“Get over yourself, Betty. Besides, shouldn’t you be asking _him_ that?” Cheryl asks, redirecting her flashlight so that it shines towards Jughead, who’s hovering beside Veronica. “What are you even doing? Don’t tell me you _sleep_ somewhere around here, hobo.”

“Hey guys, get in here.” Ethel’s voice sufficiently distracts Veronica from the jab, but she still makes a mental note to berate Cheryl later. When the group steps into the locker room, Ethel is pulling a book from one of the shelves. “Trev was right. They didn't even bother to hide it.”

As she flicks through the pages, Veronica’s eyes scan the seemingly endless list until her gaze lands on a name that sends her gut sinking uncomfortably. “ _New girl?_ Is that what I'm reduced to? _Nine_ points?”

“Just remember what you came here for,” Jughead replies quietly, peering over her shoulder to survey the book. “You can take Chuck down with this.”

“Besides, it’s better than ‘big girl,’” Ethel mumbles, fingers ghosting over her own name, “seven point five.”

It’s Betty’s turn to analyse the pages, now, and she’s barely looked for a moment before raising a finger and ghosting it along an all-too familiar name. “Polly's in this book. Next to Jason's name.”

“I'm so sorry, Betty,” Veronica hedges, sharing an uneasy glance with Kevin as the blonde’s gaze stays fixated on the playbook, almost as if she’s under the impression that she’ll uncover all of its secrets if she stares long enough.

“This isn't-- Jason would never--” Cheryl begins, clearly feeling as horrified as she looks, but Betty is evidently not in the mood to listen to any of her so-called excuses.

“It's right there, Cheryl!” Betty’s brows furrow as she finally tears her eyes away from the book, but still gestures towards its pages as she looks at the redhead. “God. Your brother _hurt_ my sister. This is what guys like Jason and Chuck think about women. We're objects for them to _abuse_. And when they're done with us, they shame us into silence. They have zero remorse for the lives they destroy.”

Veronica can _feel_ her heart sinking upon hearing Cheryl’s response, so quiet and unsure that she doesn’t quite know if it was meant for anyone’s ears but her own, but she eventually breaks the silence by pulling out her phone and sliding to the camera app. “I'll take a picture, and we'll show it to Weatherbee. It'll be the perfect cover for your exposé, Betty.

“Yeah, but-- these girls deserve _justice_ ,” Betty replies, expression oddly serene (aside from her eyes, impossibly wide and _sincere_ ) as she spins on her heel to face Veronica. “Don't you think, Cheryl? You want vengeance? You wanna go full dark, no stars, Veronica? I'm with you. And I have a plan.”

“This is _not_ gonna end well,” Jughead mutters, but Veronica is hardly listening.

\----------

Although Betty and Veronica’s operation had evidently been considered _morally grey_ enough for it to have been kept a secret, even as Weatherbee interrogated them in his office, Jughead likes to think that it had at least been successful-- and really, he’s counting the elimination of Chuck and his goons from the football team as a major success.

Most of the female lowerclassmen seem to agree with that particular sentiment, judging by the rather smug expression that a good majority of them had worn as Chuck and his friends had been herded through the hallway. He’s hovering next to Veronica as they lope past, and is close enough to see her reach over and squeeze Ethel’s arm, to hear her announce that, “you’re the bravest of them all, Ethel Muggs.”

“Hashtag ‘Justice for Ethel.’” Cheryl replies, wearing a fixed smile on her expression like armour as she glances between Betty and Veronica.

Jughead nudges her shoulder, angles his head to signal that he’s planning to leave, and Veronica nods in reply, moving to follow him as he pushes through the crowd. He comes to a halt a few feet away from the edge, and waist until she’s caught up with him to speak. “You must be glad that all this is over.” He waves a hand at the phones, the loitering crowd, the departing footballers, to prove his point.

“Yeah. I’m just lucky that mom managed to save Betty and I from the suspension that Weatherbee was planning to give us.” It would prove difficult to get into Columbia with a permanent record under her belt, after all. “Looks like I’d forgotten how _terrible_ the concept behind Full Dark, No Stars really was.” She’d like to think that she had followed in Tess’ footsteps somehow-- but it’s probably just wishful thinking on her part. “Anyway-- you said you were doing more research? How’s it all going?”

“It’s, uh--” he only hopes that his expression isn’t giving away the truths he’d uncovered that very morning-- that Grundy’s car had been parked by Sweetwater River on the Fourth of July, that she may have been there with Riverdale’s own Troy Bolton. It wouldn’t take an idiot to put two and two together, especially after Archie had finally revealed that he’d heard the gunshot. “It’s definitely going.”

After a moment of silence, she lifts an eyebrow. “Really? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“Well, hey-- I’ll spill if you tell me what happened last night.” Veronica’s lips press together. Jughead makes no move to continue speaking, either.

Some things, after all, were better left unsaid.

\----------

_Good and evil. Light and dark._

_Betty and_ **_Veronica_ ** _. Two sides of the same Janus coin._

_Given Betty's article, Weatherbee needed a sacrificial lamb-- needed to make an_ **_example_ ** _of someone._

_So, after Hermione Lodge negotiated a lesser sentence for our two avenging angels,_ _Coach Clayton, to save his job, to save the school's reputation, was forced to cut his own beloved son, and his goon squad, from the team. An action that, though none of us knew it at the time, would have_ **_terrible_ ** _consequences in the weeks to come._

_But one thing was certain, Betty and Veronica, now B &V, and maybe forever, had been forged. They walked through the fire, and survived. _ _  
_

_We crave absolutes. They comfort us, but life is_ **_infinitely_ ** _more complex than that._


End file.
